


An Unusual Circumstance

by soxos



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, Dangan Ronpa: Another Episode, Super Dangan Ronpa 2
Genre: Aftercare, BDSM, Blood, Blow Jobs, Humiliation, Intercrural Sex, M/M, Masochism, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Violence, Wax Play
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-01
Updated: 2019-05-01
Packaged: 2020-02-15 16:52:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,655
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18673681
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/soxos/pseuds/soxos
Summary: He truly was useless. The others were working so hard while he simply enjoyed his current situation. A bystander, watching the world burn as he knelt in front of the man he loved, pressing the chain of his collar into Kamukura's palms and entrusting his life to him, not caring about anything besides the everlasting hope that would win in the end.





	An Unusual Circumstance

**Author's Note:**

> Happy (late) birthday, Komaeda! And happy (late) birthday to me also, because let's be real, this is completely self indulgent. 
> 
> Anyway, I wanted to write a proper BDSM kamukoma fic for the longest time, because not only are they perfect for that sort of stuff, but there's basically nothing of that sort out there, for some reason. Sooo I finally wrote something! And it's pure smut, of course. Not even a hint of plot. Not sure if I should be proud or ashamed, to be honest. 
> 
> Warnings: consensual but not safe or sane. Do not try this at home.

 

The door creaked. Up until now, he was surrounded by darkness, unable to see or move or speak. He always seemed to end up here whenever he did something wrong – not that he was complaining. His current situation sent shivers down his spine for a completely different reason than it was supposed to.

 

He heard faint footsteps, and then the sound of a match strike. It wasn't enough to make him see properly, but he didn't have to – he already knew what was going on.

 

Still, Kamukura always had a flair for the dramatics.

 

He blinked as the candles in the room were lit, one by one, the flickering light casting trembling shadows on the walls. He watched patiently as Kamukura put the matches on top of the nightstand, sitting down on the edge of the bed and finally looking down at him.

 

Komaeda would never grow tired of this. He raised his head and saw a gorgeous pale face framed by dark hair, piercing red eyes boring into him, hard and cold. Kamukura was looking straight at him, and he was so close, too – he could feel his heartbeat speeding up and blood rushing to his face.

 

“Disappointing.”

 

Komaeda moaned into the makeshift gag that was now soaked with drool. It was amazing how a single word from Kamukura could have such a polarizing effect on him. He felt a pang of guilt as well as arousal, and he felt like getting on his knees and apologizing, but at the same time, he didn't feel sorry at all.

 

Kamukura bent down and gently touched his cheek. There was no sign of anger in his gesture, but as for affection... there wasn't much of that either. Komaeda pressed into the touch, rubbing his cheek against Kamukura's wrist, practically purring with satisfaction at the simple contact.

 

His own wrists were starting to hurt. The rope was rough, biting into his skin, the unpleasant texture causing small cuts. He felt a small tug on his hair as Kamukura reached back and finally untied his gag, gently removing the wet cloth from his mouth.

 

Komaeda watched as Kamukura silently stood up and threw the fabric into the trash can. He felt ashamed about subjugating Kamukura to something so disgusting, but he also knew that he was already used to it. He was in one room with him after all – breathing the same air, touching his cheek – Komaeda already corrupted him with his rotten nature.

 

His mouth felt sore from the gag and from the split lip he was currently sporting. He licked his lips, but his mouth was too dry and it was more painful than helpful. He looked at Kamukura, giving him his best pleading look, although he doubted he looked appealing in his current situation.

 

Kamukura gently grabbed his shoulders and pulled him up into a sitting position, rearranging the pillows behind him just so he'd be more comfortable – then he moved down and quickly untied his legs, so quickly that Komaeda barely registered it.

 

He left his hands tied up.

 

“Better?”

 

“Much better,” he grinned, his voice hoarse and scratchy, “thank you, sir.”

 

Kamukura stared at him for what felt like a whole minute, before turning around and disappearing into the bathroom next door. He reemerged with a glass full of water and a towel and Komaeda couldn't help but let out a sigh of relief.

 

“Careful,” Kamukura said as he grabbed Komaeda's head and held him steady, “drink slowly.” He tilted the glass towards Komaeda's lips.

 

Komaeda always did what Kamukura told him to, even if it took restraint. He drank the fresh water slowly, in small sips, his thirst eventually subduing.

 

“Mmm,” he let out a small sound, and Kamukura set the glass aside.

 

His master always took such good care of him.

 

“Your lip is bleeding,” Kamukura stated, gently touching the wound. Komaeda hissed at the contact, parting his lips, wanting nothing more than to suck on Kamukura's fingers and moan around them, taste his own blood on Kamukura's skin. He wanted him so badly – every part of him – but he promised to be obedient, he promised he'd do nothing out of line. “What did you do this time?”

 

“I just talked,” Komaeda shrugged, “I guess the others don't like me very much.” He smiled at his own little joke.

 

Kamukura simply reached for the towel, wiping the blood from Komaeda's chin and the corner of his lips, carefully avoiding the wound. “Were you trying to rile them up on purpose?”

 

Komaeda lowered his gaze. “You know me well. I just want them to do better than this. They can't reach their true potential if they keep getting distracted by someone as lowly as me.”

 

“Was that your only reason?”

 

Komaeda's smile faded. “I also missed you... sir.”

 

“You caused a ruckus just because of that? You keep disappointing me more and more.”

 

“I'm sorry, sir,” Komaeda tried to hold still as Kamukura kept cleaning his face, “I promise I'll make it up to you.” He also felt a familiar stirring in his stomach at Kamukura's words. Maybe he'd get an especially harsh punishment tonight.

 

“I doubt it,” Kamukura finally set the towel aside, “you'll just disappoint me again. No matter what I do, you never change. You said you would devote yourself to me, yet here you are, your old, disobedient self. Is there truly nothing you can do right?”

 

Komaeda shivered at those words. He knew Kamukura didn't mean it – not really – but the fear of getting thrown aside still plagued him. He was replaceable, useless – just a broken toy for momentary pleasure. Kamukura could have anyone he wanted, and yet he was still here with him. Still taking care of him, still scolding him.

 

“Sir...”

 

Kamukura slowly shook his head. “I'll treat your wound. Then you can leave.”

 

“Sir, please,” Komaeda was slightly panicking now. He didn't want to leave, he didn't want his wound treated. “Please...”

 

“If you want to say something, say it.”

 

Thoughts frantically ran through his mind as he searched for an answer.

 

And then he found it.

 

“Don't you want to kiss me?” His voice was shaking. “Don't you want to taste my blood?”

 

Kamukura looked at him, and it made him shiver just as always, but there was something warm in his eyes this time. “See, you can be good for something.” He bent down and connected their lips.

 

Komaeda's heart was ready to jump out of his chest. Kamukura's long hair tickled his cheeks as he tasted his lips, opening his mouth for a better access. He felt Kamukura sucking on his wounded lip, drinking down the droplets of blood, and soon he felt the metallic taste on Kamukura's tongue.

 

He completely melted into the kiss. The smell of iron reached his nostrils, sharp and erotic, and he moaned into Kamukura's mouth. He wished his hands were free so he could bury them into his silky hair and pull him closer, but that would definitely be too impudent. He was thankful for his binds in that regard.

 

He moaned again as Kamukura shoved his tongue in his mouth, and he felt a tug on his neck as the other man gripped the chain of his collar, wrapping the links in his fist and using it to bring him closer. Komaeda felt light headed – both from the kiss and from the feeling of being at Kamukura's complete mercy. Kamukura could do just about anything to him right now and he would willingly give himself to him.

 

Kamukura pulled away at last. Komaeda sighed – he wished for the moment to never end.

 

“Disobedient _and_ greedy,” Kamukura stated, his tone of voice much less cruel now. Komaeda knew he won him over. “What am I going to do with you?”

 

“You should punish me,” Komaeda smiled, the wound on his lip stinging a bit, “that's what the others expect you to do, you know. That's why they tied me up here.”

 

“Do they know you enjoy these punishments?”

 

“They have no idea,” Komaeda giggled, his voice loud and high pitched, unpleasant even to his own ears. “Don't tell them.”

 

“I won't,” Kamukura nodded, the humor of the situation completely escaping him. Komaeda didn't mind – he wasn't here to exchange jokes. “I'm going to untie you now.”

 

“Huh? Why?” Komaeda tilted his head. He was hoping that he could stay like this – even though the rope was extremely uncomfortable, being helpless in front of Kamukura had its appeal.

 

Kamukura gave him that piercing look of his and he shut up immediately. It was wrong of him to question the ultimate hope like this, he knew that – he just couldn't help himself. He was never good at keeping his mouth shut.

 

“You're hurting,” Kamukura said, gently putting his hand below Komaeda's neck, pushing the pillow aside and touching the rope, “and I want you completely naked for what I have in mind.”

 

 _Yes, yes, yes,_ Komaeda thought as his hands were being untied, _anything for you, Kamukura-kun, anything you want._

 

His hands were finally free and he rubbed his wrists, bruises already forming, but he didn't mind. He was about to receive his punishment from Kamukura and nothing else mattered. His mind raced with different possibilities as he got up and stretched his limbs, thankful for the freedom of movement.

 

He recalled their previous encounters. Kamukura would usually spank him – with his bare hand, a riding crop or a whip – and Komaeda loved every second of it, pain mixing with pleasure as he moaned at every hit, practically screaming at the top of his lungs. He loved it when Kamukura hurt him. But sometimes he would get creative – leaving him tied up with a vibrator stuck inside him, unable to do anything but scream and beg for attention – or making him kneel in the corner of the room until the pain got unbearable and he broke down into tears.

 

Kamukura seemed to know exactly what he craved.

 

They had a safeword, of course – they chose it at the very beginning of their little sessions - but Komaeda announced that he will never use it. It wasn't stubbornness. It wasn't even a strong will. It was pure devotion combined with absolute masochism. No matter what Kamukura did, it would never be too much. He could kill him and Komaeda wouldn't protest – in fact, he would thank him for the honor of finally taking his life.

 

Of course, Kamukura would never do that, but he could dream. He could cling to the meager hope of being useful one day.

 

He took off his jacket and hung it on a nearby chair. He fiddled with the hem of his shirt, looking up at Kamukura.

 

“Go on,” he ordered, looking straight at him. Komaeda knew he wasn't the ultimate mind reader – in fact, he jokingly asked him that a few times – but it still felt like he could see right into his brain and pick apart his thoughts. It was an uncomfortable feeling, but he was used to it. Kamukura's presence was strange in so many ways.

 

He gripped the hem of his shirt and lifted it up, revealing his skinny frame. He managed to gain some weight ever since Kamukura decided to take care of him, but it was still far from ideal. He still looked sickly, his hipbones were still sticking out, and his ribs were still showing.

 

But at least he was making progress.

 

He unbuttoned his jeans and managed to tug them down. They were pretty tight, both him and Kamukura liked it that way. Not that Kamukura ever voiced that particular desire, Komaeda just assumed it from the way he stared at his thighs and ass every time the Ultimate Despair had an important meeting.

 

He truly was useless. The others were working so hard while he simply enjoyed his current situation. A bystander, watching the world burn as he knelt in front of the man he loved, pressing the chain of his collar into Kamukura's palms and entrusting his life to him, not caring about anything besides the everlasting hope that would win in the end.

 

And Kamukura would help him achieve his goals as well as keep him in check – it was the perfect arrangement.

 

He shimmied out of his underwear, neatly folding all of his clothes onto the chair. His nakedness didn't bother him. In fact, he enjoyed Kamukura's eyes on him, it meant that he was being noticed. _Appreciated, even,_ a small voice suggested until he stifled it, pushing his laughable wishes aside.

 

He left his collar on–only Kamukura could unlock it, after all.

 

“Lie down on the bed,” Kamukura ordered, moving aside in order to make space for him. Komaeda shivered with anticipation, ready for anything at this point – he'd take Kamukura's punishment no matter what.

 

He lay down on the bed, staring at the canopy above him, making himself comfortable on the silky bed sheets. Kamukura's bed was so soft and warm, the expensive fabric below him practically caressing his skin as he writhed around, trying to savor the moment. He wasn't always allowed into Kamukura's bed–no, his punishments often took place somewhere else, sometimes even outside, and it was cold and uncomfortable–unlike his current situation.

 

It seemed like he caught Kamukura in a good mood.

 

Maybe Kamukura would fuck him tonight–but that was doubtful. Sex with him was a reward, not a punishment.

 

The metal chain felt cold on his chest and abdomen, so he moved it aside. He hissed as it grazed his piercings, and it still felt uncomfortable as it rested against his shoulder, but he quickly forgot about it altogether as he watched Kamukura grabbing one of the candles and–oh.

 

Things were about to get interesting.

 

“Put your hands up and keep them there.”

 

Komaeda rushed to obey, putting his hands above his head, crossing his wrists. It would have been more convenient if he stayed tied up, but he knew that this was an important part of the punishment. Kamukura often tested his will and endurance, and this was a difficult task. Even now, he wanted to reach out and throw his hands around Kamukura's neck and bury his face in his hair, but fighting off the temptation was a part of the test. It was hard, but he could do it. He would listen to his master and do as he says.

 

He could do that much.

 

“You should already know what I'm about to do.”

 

Komaeda nodded, trying to look as determined as possible. Kamukura was looming over him, his usual scary look on his face, except now it was illuminated by the candle flame, and the wax was already dripping on his fingers–not that he seemed to mind. He didn't even flinch.

 

“Yes, sir,” he answered, arching his back, indicating that he was ready. He had no experience with temperature play so far, but he was prepared for anything Kamukura wanted to do to him.

 

He was ready to accept his fate.

 

Kamukura tilted the candle, and then–

 

“Ah!”

 

A sharp burst of pain followed by a pleasant sensation. He flinched, more out of surprise than the pain. He looked downwards and watched the red wax slowly dry on his skin. It felt surprisingly good once he got over the shock. His skin was always sensitive, but when Kamukura was involved, the sensitivity seemed almost unbearable. He knew exactly what to do and where to touch, and it drove him insane.

 

“How does it feel?” Kamukura asked, his expression unreadable.

 

Komaeda took a deep breath, his chest heaving. “It's... um...”

 

“Tell me.”

 

“It feels really good,” Komaeda admitted. He could never lie to Kamukura. His master always saw right through him, and he desperately wanted to be obedient.

 

Kamukura tilted the candle again, dripping more wax on his chest.

 

He wasn't holding back this time.

 

Komaeda arched his back, letting the sensation overwhelm him. He digged his nails into his palms as the wax dripped down, covering his chest and abdomen. He didn't even feel any pain anymore, just pleasure.

 

Kamukura was staring at him intensely, watching as he created patterns on his skin.

 

“Beautiful,” he said. “Look at you.”

 

Komaeda blushed at that. It wasn't often that Kamukura complimented him so straightforwardly.

 

“Red looks so good on you,” he continued, gently touching Komaeda's hip and smearing the wax, getting some under his fingernails.

 

_That can't be pleasant._

 

“Thank you, sir,” he breathed out, crumbling under Kamukura's touch. He could see what this was about–the red wax contrasted against his pale skin in an almost alarming manner, and he knew that Kamukura could appreciate aesthetic.

 

He moaned as more and more wax dripped from the candle. He struggled to keep his hands above his head as his arousal slowly grew. The wax itself didn't do much to him–it wasn't painful enough to fully arouse him–but the fact that Kamukura complimented him and paid attention to him...

 

It made his head spin.

 

Kamukura dragged his fingers along the dried wax on his stomach, gently pressing down, drawing small circles on his skin with his fingertips. He seemed to enjoy the sensation, and Komaeda appreciated his touch.

 

It felt almost intoxicating.

 

Kamukura set the candle aside, blowing it out, the scent of the smoke slowly filling the room. Komaeda breathed it in–it smelled so good, making this entire situation seem almost romantic. In fact, it _was_ romantic–especially when compared to what they were usually up to. Kamukura wasn't torturing him, or scolding him, or humiliating him. It was an unusual circumstance.

 

“Gorgeous,” Kamukura repeated, looking straight at him. It was as if Komaeda died and went to heaven. “Get up. Kneel in front of me.”

 

Komaeda instantly got up, scrambling to obey. He knelt in front of the bed just as Kamukura sat down on the edge of the mattress.

 

“You know what to do.”

 

Komaeda knew, but he wasn't expecting it tonight. He expected to be punished and hurt and sent back, made to apologize to everyone for being as useless and awful as ever. Even if Kamukura didn't fuck him directly, it was still something of a reward – being allowed to put his mouth on him and enjoy the feeling to the fullest. He could get off on that alone, just the feeling of Kamukura in his mouth, dripping all over his tongue and thrusting into his throat -

 

He tried not to drool as he greedily grasped the zipper on Kamukura's pants, swiftly pulling it down. His fingers trembled as he grasped the fabric and tugged at it. Kamukura decided to make it easy for him and lifted up his hips, allowing Komaeda to pull down his pants along with his underwear.

 

Komaeda felt faint, just as he did every time he knelt in front of his master like this.

 

He couldn't believe how lucky he was.

 

“Go on. I don't have all day.”

 

Komaeda let out a satisfied sigh. Kamukura's cock was right in front of him and he was already hard and _so big._ He often struggled with the size, but he enjoyed it despite that – maybe even because of that.

 

He slowly lifted his hand and ran his fingers along the length, gently grasping it at the base.

 

Kamukura's hand found its way into his hair. He felt a sharp tug.

 

He looked up and saw Kamukura's face almost entirely lost behind his long hair. Only one of his eyes was visible, but that sight alone was enough to make Komaeda shiver. He was looking at him with such disdain, as if he was nothing but dirt beneath his shoes. It was such a difference from the look he was giving him earlier, but even so, this one was so much more familiar, and he was more comfortable with this. It was what he wanted, after all.

 

To be treated like dirt.

 

He felt another tug and he brought his face closer to Kamukura's cock. He couldn't resist rubbing it against his cheek at first, smiling as he inhaled the scent and felt the texture on his skin. He loved doing this for some reason, just feeling Kamukura against his face, leaving a wet trail of precum on his cheek.

 

He finally stuck out his tongue and licked the tip, tasting the bitterness. It felt slightly weird, because he usually wasn't granted this privilege. He felt really, really grateful. As he extended his tongue and curled it around Kamukura's cock, he felt his hair being gripped and pulled upwards.

 

“Stop messing around,” Kamukura spat out, “you are here to please me. Did you forget that?”

 

“Of course not, sir,” Komaeda shook his head desperately.

 

“Get on with it, then.”

 

Komaeda gave him a shaky nod and finally took Kamukura's cock in his mouth, enveloping the head and slowly descending downwards until he felt his gag reflex protesting.

 

This is what he wanted. This is where he belonged.

 

Kamukura eased the grip on his hair, letting him set his own pace for now. Komaeda felt a pang of disappointment at that, wanting nothing more that for Kamukura to ruthlessly fuck his face, but maybe it would come later. Maybe he was supposed to do all the work for now. And he was fine with that.

 

He drooled around the cock in his mouth, carefully moving his tongue around, wrapping his lips around it and doing his best to create pleasant friction. He started moving his head up and down, taking more and more of Kamukura's cock with each bob of his head–the size was truly stretching his mouth to the limit, it was difficult to take in all of it, but he knew he could do it, he managed to do it before, he could –

 

“You are still so sloppy,” he heard Kamukura's voice as if from a great distance, “can't you do even this simple task without making a mess?”

 

“Ngh,” Komaeda let out a muffled, pathetic sound.

 

“This is the seventh time you're doing this. You should know better by now.”

 

_Of course he is keeping count._

 

He felt his hair being tugged at once again as he was pulled off of Kamukura's cock.

 

“You're drooling again,” Kamukura pointed out, “it's undignified.”

 

“I thought you liked it when I'm undignified,” Komaeda smirked up at him, licking his lips. He knew he was being bratty, but he couldn't help it. Besides, he knew that Kamukura liked him best this way.

 

“Not when you're like this,” Kamukura retorted, “disgusting. I though you'd learn how to do this right eventually, but now I see you're a lost cause.”

 

Komaeda had nothing to say to that.

 

“Try again.”

 

He swallowed, once more bending down and taking Kamukura in his mouth, sucking gently, careful not to drool too much this time. It was kind of hard not to, though – it tasted so good and it felt so good and it was brushing against the back of his throat and –

 

He truly was disgusting.

 

He closed his eyes and tried to focus on his task, ignoring his incompetence and just moving his head up and down like before. He heard Kamukura's breath quickening, and he counted that as a small victory. Kamukura usually had complete control over everything, even his own reactions – so the fact that he had such an effect on him sent a pleasant tingle through his entire body.

 

He moaned as he felt his hair being gripped almost painfully. His head was being pushed down, and he knew what was coming next. He took a deep breath, tried to relax, and let himself be lead by his master. Disregarding his comfort and his wants was one of the first lessons he learned. What he wanted didn't matter for now, not as he was pushed down, not as he felt Kamukura's cock entering his throat.

 

It was uncomfortable, but he was used to the feeling by now. He couldn't do this the first time he tried, but now he was almost properly trained and Kamukura could fuck his mouth all he wanted.

 

Closing his eyes and holding still, he let Kamukura grip his hair in both of his hands and thrust upwards, almost making him choke – but he persisted, squeezing his eyes shut and letting his mind wonder.

 

He really loved Kamukura. Treatment like this was exactly what he craved. What he deserved. He couldn't get enough of this, he couldn't–

 

“You're making a mess again.”

 

He _was_ making a mess, but it was impossible not to. He could barely focus on breathing, let alone anything else.

 

He was pulled off once again.

 

“You can't even do this right,” Kamukura scolded him, “look at you.” He touched the corned of his lip. Komaeda couldn't even imagine how he must have looked right now – covered in drool, in blood, in wax. “Get on the bed.”

 

“Huh?”

 

“Are you dumb as well as useless? I said _get on the bed_.”

 

“Ah... yes, sir,” he managed to get up and lay down on the bed, anticipating Kamukura's next move. He was slightly disappointed – he thought he was doing okay, not even choking this time, but apparently it wasn't good enough.

 

Which was understandable.

 

His skills were mediocre and not at all fitting for _Kamukura_ of all people.

 

He felt his legs being gripped and pulled backwards, and for a moment he hoped that would get extremely lucky today, but then his thighs were pressed together and he felt something between them, and he realized what this was about.

 

“You're filling out nicely, at least,” Kamukura commented as he gripped his thighs and slid his cock between them, the friction a little dry, but mostly eased by some of the remaining saliva. “I would not have been able to do this early on.”

 

“I... ah...,”

 

“You feel much softer now.”

 

“Sir... ah... please... please derive pleasure from my lousy body... all you want...”

 

“Be quiet,” Kamukura hissed, digging his nails into his skin, “your voice is grating.”

 

Komaeda decided to shut up. He knew what the purpose of this was – it was to give him as little pleasure as possible, but it didn't really work, since just the feeling of Kamukura's cock sliding inbetween his thighs was satisfying enough for him to moan out loud.

 

It was almost as good as the real thing.

 

He pressed his legs together as much as he could, making it even tighter. Kamukura's precum was making the movement easier now, and it felt good even if it wasn't supposed to, even if it wasn't for his benefit. It just felt better and better, his skin where Kamukura touched him felt almost on fire, and he knew that it was practically impossible, but –

 

“Don't come,” Kamukura said, his voice low.

 

“Y-Yes, sir.”

 

“Does this really feel good for you? Have you finally turned into a slut?”

 

 _Maybe._ There was something magical and electrifying in Kamukura's touch, and it made his skin all sensitive – it was as if he felt everything so much more whenever he was around. He doubted he would feel like this with any other man.

 

He finally looked up, meeting Kamukura's gaze. His red eyes were almost shining in the darkness. He looked as bored as ever – his unchanging expression was slightly creepy, but Komaeda was used to it by now. In fact, he liked it – he thought it was amazing that Kamukura almost never lost his composure. It was one of many things that he admired, especially since he himself was someone who lost composure far too quickly.

 

Like now. He was already trembling, completely ready to lose his mind. He had to bite back his moans – Kamukura said his voice was _grating_ , after all – but he felt so, so good –

 

Kamukura suddenly withdrew and gripped his hips, forcefully turning him around. He did it with such ease that Komaeda barely registered it. He was suddenly facing the pillow, feeling slightly disoriented. Kamukura gripped his waist and continued to fuck his thighs, his cock sliding in an out faster and faster, and somehow it felt even better than before. Maybe it was because of the humiliating position, or maybe it was just his imagination, but he had to struggle not to reach down and touch himself. He wanted to come so badly – but he knew he wasn't allowed to.

He gripped the pillow, burying his fingers into the silky fabric, and he felt Kamukura's thrusts getting more and more irregular, until he finally felt something something warm and wet on the back of this thighs.

 

He slumped down, desperately rubbing his cock against the mattress. The feeling of Kamukura's cum on his skin was too much to bear, he needed at least some friction, at least some relief –

 

“Stop it.”

 

Komaeda looked over his shoulder, giving Kamukura a crooked smile. “You never said I can't do this,” he moaned as he continued to thrust his hips against the sheets, “you only said I can't – ah!”

 

A slap landed on his ass and he moaned mid sentence. He stopped his movements and scowled at Kamukura.

 

“I wasn't planning on coming! I just needed _something_!”

 

“Don't act like a brat now. I know what you are trying to do. Control yourself.”

 

Komaeda sighed. “That's easy for you to say, you've already had your orgasm.” He saw Kamukura narrowing his eyes at that, and it was such a scary sight that he almost got goose bumps. “I mean – I'm sorry, sir! I'll stop!”

 

Kamukura tilted his head.

 

“Let's get you cleaned up.”

 

* * *

 

He was practically purring as Kamukura gently shampooed his hair. The water around him was pleasantly warm and the air was filled with the scent of the vanilla shampoo. His split lip that was bleeding just an hour ago was practically healed now – Kamukura disinfected it and worked his medical magic, and even though it should have been impossible, his lip was as good as new. Then he scraped the wax off of him, and now he was sitting in a bathtub with Kamukura tending to him.

 

He was really, really lucky.

 

He closed his eyes, sighing contently. This felt nicer than it had any right to be.

 

The warm water calmed both his nerves and his arousal.

 

“Sir...”

 

“You can stop calling me that.”

 

“Kamukura-kun,” he leaned back against the back of the bathtub, smiling softly, “I'm so happy I could just die right now.”

 

Kamukura said nothing to that.

 

“I'm really vulnerable,” he continued, “completely defenseless. Won't you kill me?”

 

Silence. The hands in his hair stopped their movement.

 

“Kamukura-kun...”

 

“I am going to rinse your hair now.”

 

Komaeda sighed. It seemed like he was completely ignored once again.

 

“Do what you want,” he sunk into the bathtub, letting Kamukura rinse his hair, “you always do what you want.”

 

“I always do what you want,” Kamukura argued, “that's why we are doing this, remember? I do not enjoy hurting you.”

 

“You enjoy it a little,” Komaeda teased. Kamukura dumped more water on his head than necessary. A bit of shampoo got in his mouth.

 

_Gross._

 

“I do not. I enjoy certain aspects of this charade, but ultimately, it is all for you.”

 

Komaeda had nothing to say to that. He stayed still as Kamukura grabbed the sponge and started washing his shoulders and arms with gentle, soothing movements. He closed his eyes, relishing in all the attention he was getting.

 

“Kamukura-kun... you shouldn't say such things. I'll start thinking that you actually care about me.”

 

“Think what you will.” Warm, soapy hands touching his chest and abdomen, carefully washing off the remnants of the wax. Lips brushing against his ear, tongue darting out and licking the sensitive spot on his jaw. Fingernails dragging across his stomach, going lower and lower.

 

“T-this is why I don't believe you,” Komaeda gasped, “you claim that it's all for me, but then you torment me like this...”

 

“You like being tormented,” Kamukura noted as he carefully avoided his arousal and scrubbed at his thighs, doing his best to remove the dried cum that resided there. Komaeda spread his legs to give him better access, water swirling around him in little waves.

 

“Not like this.”

 

“Even like this. You like being at my mercy.”

 

“I can't deny that,” Komaeda shrugged. He had to admit that he liked some part of it as well. Being denied release while Kamukura got his fill was unfair, but that unfairness was something he craved.

 

He wasn't equal. He will never be equal. He didn't want to be.

 

“The water is getting lukewarm,” he announced, “you should probably hurry.”

 

Kamukura nodded, quickly washing the rest of his body. Too quickly, Komaeda realized as he was being pulled out of the bathtub, a fluffy white towel wrapped around him before he even registered it.

“How do you feel? Does anything hurt?” Kamukura asked the obligatory question.

 

Komaeda rolled his eyes. “I feel fine and nothing hurts.”

 

“Dry yourself off then.”

 

“Huh? Can't you do it for me?” Komaeda whined, aware that he was pushing it – but Kamukura ignored him and simply left the room, leaving him alone with his thoughts.

 

He dried himself off pretty quickly, eager to put his collar back on – he felt nervous without it – and fall asleep in Kamukura's arms, because no matter what, he always allowed him to fall asleep next to him right after a session. It was incredibly sweet of him – sweet and stupid.

 

He hanged the towel and entered the bedroom, smiling as he saw Kamukura blowing out the candles.

 

One by one.

 

They'll be in a complete darkness soon.

 

“Kamukura-kun, I...”

 

“There is no need to say anything. I know.”

 

Komaeda's smile widened. He approached the bed, sitting down on the edge, closing his eyes.

 

If Kamukura knew, then... it will be alright.

 

Everything will be alright.

 


End file.
